Catharsis
by ohlawsons
Summary: or: five nights in steelport; each is somehow more difficult than the last.


_**A/N:** normally I'd probably only post something like this on tumblr but I liked this one so_

 _set early/during sr3_

* * *

 _ **i.**_  
The night is a blur, passing in a spark of adrenaline and rage and grief. She _fights -_ isn't sure why and doesn't know what for - but as long as there's someone to fuck up it's almost enough.

She takes a pair of pistols from Loren's plane, grabs a rifle from the military base, wrestles a shotgun from one of the Morningstar. She calls to Shaundi and they find a car; it's blue and it's fast and it's all she remembers.

There's a moment and it's peaceful, with the smooth hum of the engine and the ocean spread out beside them and Whitesnake on the radio. But then she catches Shaundi's expression, sees nothing but icy focus, and coaxes a bit more speed from their car.

 _ **ii.**_  
The night is red, red with rage and blood and the Morningstar. It's been a long time since she's landed so brazenly in an enemy gang's territory, even longer since she's done something as stupid as drop into their pool and start shooting.

And then it's over, and it's over too soon and she has to find some other way to savor the moment. She takes a bottle of whatever's intact from the bar and heads to the roof. She sits and looks out over the city - all bright lights and towering skyline - and starts to drink and it burns and it's exactly what she needs.

Shaundi stays clear but Pierce eventually joins her, and they sit and drink and neither says a word, not at first. She looks out over to where she knows the wreckage is, and declares her intent to claim the whole damn city even if it kills her. Pierce tells her she's crazy and they laugh but it's hollow, and the rooftop falls into silence for the next hour.

 _ **iii.**_ **  
**The night is hot, and it doesn't help that she's cramped in a tight room pressed between a woman and a wall. She's pretty sure she's fucking one of the Deckers but it doesn't even matter, not now, because they're just a distraction and all that matters is Loren.

It's a quick thing and it's not enough and it's not what she wants; she can't get Shaundi out of her mind, can't stop thinking of all the things she wants to do to her and all the ways she's already disappointed her. But for tonight, she's got someone with a soft stomach and softer lips and a tantalizingly singular focus and it has to be enough.

She knows she'll leave just as frustrated as when she arrived, but frustration has become the only state of mind she's familiar with. Nothing quite works out these days, and neither she nor Shaundi are in the state of mind to figure out why, but at least they've made progress with the Morningstar. Loren _dies_ in the morning, and that's comforting enough, and she hooks a finger in the band of the Decker's skirt and tugs downwards and decides she'll let her leave alive tonight.

 _ **iv.**_ **  
**The night is cool, and a salty sea breeze sends a shiver down her spine. There's a celebration, and nothing feels like it's worth celebrating but she joins in at Pierce's insistence and they both try to convince Shaundi to take the night off. She never shows.

There's strippers and music and all sorts of alcohol and Pierce has spared no expense in marking the eradication of the Morningstar from the city. He calls it _letting go_ , but she doesn't know how and even between the drinking and the dancing she's planning, and by the time Pierce finds her again she lays out her scheme to take out the rest of the city.

She leaves and she calls Shaundi, texts her and drops her by place but it's empty. She _needs_ Shaundi, is her excuse, needs her focus and her dedication and it's not a lie, but it's not the whole truth either. She wants to see her smile again and knows she may have the chance now that the Morningstar are gone. But Shaundi doesn't want to be found, and she goes home alone and calls again and leaves three messages about all the things she misses.

 _ **v.**_  
The night is purple, and the purple lights of the penthouse around her mix with the purple lights from the skyline before her. There's just the Saints, and it's their city but it's still hollow, still empty. She sits in an oversized chair in an oversized bedroom, looking out through oversized windows and wonders - _what next?_ The city could burn and she would simply watch and not lose any sleep; it's the things she _does_ lose sleep over that keep her from leaving.

To go back would be to face the losses and the changes, and to stay is to ignore as best she can and carry on like she's _chosen_ this city, like the past year has all been a conscious decision and not a disaster she would trade anything to undo.

She wants to get up and drive away, but then Shaundi walks by, hair loose and wearing nothing but a half-buttoned shirt. She doesn't leave; she's in love and she's happy and somehow some small part of it still feels wrong, still feels like she shouldn't find anything _good_ in this city. But she _has_ , and as conflicted as she feels she's not giving it up.


End file.
